Hungover
by divakat
Summary: While investigating embezzlement at a Las Vegas casino, Cal and Gill get a few surprises. T for now but will soon become M.
1. Chapter 1

**I've been working on this idea since I finished Poke Face and wanted somewhat of a continuation. This is definately NOT a continuation of that. I started writing and then did a search to make sure something sililar had not been done. I found a fic by bsgroxmysox published in July that begins in a very similar fashion, but let me assure everyone that this fic will go a VERY different way! I'm beginning this with a T rating but I want to assure you all that this will become an M rated fic fairly quickly. I will change the rating before I insert any M but I'm not quite sure how many chaps it will take me before I get there (likely just one more so take heart). Oh, I'll still stick with the plot because I think it a good one but, well its me and Callian, so yeah, M. I'll also be including a little vignette that was suggested in a review for Poker Face so be on the lookout! **

**Enjoy**

**Oh yeah...still don't own Lie To Me but I'm holding it hostage till Fox gives us a Season 4!**

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Gill woke to darkness broken only by a distant glow from under the door across the room. She was unable to make out any details of her surroundings. Someone was taking a jackhammer to the inside of her head and she wondered if it was the steady throbbing pain that had woken her.

She remembered she was in a hotel room. Yes, a hotel room in the Bellagio where the Lightman group had been hired by the Casino's owners to investigate an employee embezzlement problem. Her memory seemed very…fuzzy around the edges and the harder she concentrated, the more her head pounded.

Cal's light and steady snoring next to her told her he was still asleep and she shifted out from underneath his arm. She noted that she seemed to have lost all of her clothes somewhere. As she moved her body, things began to spin and an intense wave of nausea came over her. She quickly bolted from bed, ignoring the protest of her pounding skull as she made her way to where she remembered the bathroom being. It seemed like the trip took her longer than it should have but she was in no condition to pay attention to that thought at the moment.

She flipped on the light in the bathroom and flinched as she caught sight of the toilet, racing toward its pristine white bowl as she threw herself to her knees on the hard tile, noisily emptying her stomach. After what seemed like an hour, the heaving of her stomach and the wild spinning of the room finally began to stop and she flushed, rising to move shakily to the sink. She grabbed a fluffy white robe from where it hung on the wall and wrapped the warm softness around her. She dug through her toiletry bag, thankful when her hand came to rest on the aspirin bottle, and poured out two white tablets, then thought better of it and added a third. She filled a cup from the tap and swallowed forcefully, willing her stomach to keep this little bit of water down so she could silence the throbbing of her brain.

Her mouth tasted like vomit and perhaps something worse and it felt as though she had spent a parched night in the desert. She grabbed her toothbrush and tried like hell to scrub the dry caterpillar feeling from her tongue and the noxious taste from every crevice. She looked around the bathroom. She didn't remember her bathroom being this big the day before. She wished her world didn't seem so blurry.

She reached for the soap and a washcloth, hoping she could wash away the extreme fuzziness of her mind. As she grabbed the small heart-shaped soap next to the sink, tiny alarm bells went off in her brain but she was far too muddled to think about what they were telling her. She washed her face, wiping mascara from under her eyes and smeared lipstick from her mouth. She finished by rinsing with cold water, splashing it over the back of her neck as well and making sure she washed the last traces of her stomach contents from the tendrils clinging to her face. She splashed a last handful of water over her face, grabbed a towel and patted herself dry. She looked up into the mirror, thankful that while she still felt like hell, at least she no longer looked like she'd spent the night sleeping in a ditch.

That was when she saw it.

A tiny glint of metal caught her eye and she stared at the band of pale gold circling the forth finger on her left hand.

The room was spinning again. The alarm bells were tolling loudly now and her heart raced as she took in her surroundings. This wasn't the bathroom in her hotel room. She had been staying in a standard room, luxurious by most standards but definitely not at the level of opulence that surrounded her now. This bathroom had a glass walled shower big enough for a football team as well as a Jacuzzi tub. An unopened bottle of champagne (her stomach flipped at that) sat in a bucket next to the tub and there seemed to be an inordinate amount of pink and silver hearts in the overall décor.

She suddenly remembered getting out of bed.

She flung open the door, willing her stomach, which was threatening to expel the small amount of fluid she had put in it, to quiet as she bolted to where she could see tiny pricks of light filtering in between what she assumed were heavy drapes. She grabbed the fabric, nearly tearing it from its track. Light spilled into the room through tinted glass and she flinched at the brightness. She turned, her jaw going slack as she took in her surroundings.

The room was simply enormous. A dark wooden table and chairs sat in front of half the window, the table's surface decorated with varying sizes and shapes of tasteful silver vases. A wardrobe in the same wood stood tall against a far wall and a matching long bureau held a vase of beautiful red long stemmed roses. The bed was enormous and occupied by one lightly snoring and shirtless, _oh God please let it just be shirtless,_ Cal Lightman. He lay on his stomach, face turned away from her.

Taking a deep breath she walked slowly on trembling legs toward the bed. She groaned inwardly as she took in the rumpled state of the sheets and comforter. This was not a bed where two people passed out after a night of heavy drinking. This was a bed where it looked like someone, or in this case two someones, had had a _very _good time. Her eyes roamed over his body. His slim torso was surprisingly well muscled and his skin smooth, pale, and freckled. She briefly took note of the tattoos covering his right arm and wondered whether she was the only one who knew the significance of each one. Reluctantly her eyes went to his left hand where it lay on the pillow next to his head. Not surprisingly a gold band similar to her own recently acquired one adorned his finger.

Gillian sat down on the bed and placed a gentle hand on Cal's shoulder. She shook him softly and, though his breathing quieted, he made no sign that he was waking up.

"Cal," she said, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

He groaned softly, burying his face in the pillow. "Could you turn the music down Em? Daddy's not feeling so well. Don't forget to let the cat in," he mumbled.

"Cal!" she said louder, her own voice sending a sharp stabbing pain into her temples.

He bolted upright in the bed, wincing at the light that assaulted his eyes, and looked around in a panic. When his eyes came to rest on Gillian he instantly relaxed and fell back against the pillows, hands covering his eyes as he massaged his temples. "Ugh…my head is killing me. How did you get in?"

She lowered her eyes. "I stayed here last night Cal. Don't you remember?"

He looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together. He then looked around the room, and finally at the state of the bedding around them. "You?" He gestured to the bed.

"Yes," she supplied, helping him along.

"Stayed here…"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes.

"With me?" he said incredulously.

"Yes Cal," she said emphatically, hoping he would catch up soon.

"And I don't remember a bloody minute of it?" He sounded tremendously affronted.

"Apparently neither of us does. I think that might be just the beginning of the problem Cal." She didn't know how to tell him about the rings which he had yet to notice.

"Damn right it is. I'm not letting you leave my bed until I'm sure I'll remember you being in it." He came to a half sitting position as he moved toward her. An odd look came over his face and he stopped, his face going green. "Right after the room stops spinning. Oh Christ. Where's the loo?"

She pointed toward the door to the bathroom and he shot out of bed. She covered her mouth as she realized he was completely naked and quickly turned her head. Despite the seriousness of the situation and the relentless throbbing headache, she couldn't suppress the tiny girlish giggle that burst from her mouth at the sight of his naked white butt dashing across the room.

She continued to try and clear her head as she attempted to ignore the distant sound of Cal retching. No matter how she tried however, she could not make her brain connect the lines from the last things she remembered to her current state. She wasn't a big drinker. Sure, she'd been drunk her fair share of times, and sure, she'd been hung over after a few of those times but somehow this felt different. Never in her life could she remember blacking out for an extended period of time where there was absolutely no memory to work with. Come to think of it, it wasn't like Cal to be hung over either. She'd never seen him this bad off. Her suspicious mind was working overtime but still, no answers were coming.

After an extended period, Cal emerged from the bathroom having also donned a white robe. He clutched at his head. "I'd give my right arm for an aspirin, love."

"In my bag on the sink," she offered.

"You're a lifesaver."

After a moment he returned and flopped on the bed next to her, flinging a hand across his eyes. "I feel totally schnoggered," he moaned. He lifted his arm looking up at her from one eye. "Gillian, did we really..?"

She looked away. Despite the other aches and pains of her body and her head, she could feel a distinct and familiar tenderness between her thighs. "I'm fairly certain, yes." She met his eyes, tears suddenly welling up out of nowhere.

He put a hand on her arm. "Gillian you know I'd never…not if you didn't want to. Not if you weren't…aware…of what we were doing. No matter how drunk I was...never."He looked grave as he said the words.

"I know Cal." She looked in his eyes to let him know she meant it. She took a deep breath, and wiped at her damp cheeks. "Is it possible…I mean…could we have been drugged?"

"You'd need to be drugged to sleep with me?"

"No, of course not," she said immediately before she bit her lip, willing the words back inside. "I just mean…Cal, I've never felt like this before, no matter how much I drank, have you? I mean, what's the last thing you remember from yesterday?"

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I remember interviewing Hankins the pit boss and then calling Loker to ask him to do voice-stress analysis back at the lab…I remember bits and pieces of you and I getting ready for the meeting with Bolton the Floor manager…Christ, after that it's all just…it's all just blank. I honestly can't remember a single thing until just a few moments ago."

"Your memory goes further back than mine. I don't even seem to remember the last few interviews we did. Cal, there are drugs out there that can cause retro-grade amnesia, certain benzodiazepines, propofol…If they were combined with alcohol, it's likely they could produce this effect."

"Well, when we figure out _if _we've been drugged, we need to figure out _why_ someone would want to drug us. What were we getting close to in these interviews that someone didn't want us to find out?"

They were both startled by a knock at the door.

"Room service," a polite voice called from the other side.

They looked at each other. "Just one second," Cal was the first to speak. "Just act as if this is all completely normal. We don't know what's going on yet and if this does involve the hotel in some way I don't want them knowing that they've rattled us," he whispered as he started for the door.

"Cal…" she called, feeling like she should warn him.

"In a sec, love." He silenced her.

He checked the keyhole and then opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked someone outside the door.

"I have breakfast for Mr. and Mrs. Lightman, courtesy of Mr. Bolton." Gillian heard a disembodied voice say.

Cal stood aside making eye contact with her as a man in a tuxedo backed into the room followed by a cart with several silver domed platters, a few carafes, and a vase of fresh flowers. She sent him a silent plea with her eyes.

"I'm afraid there's been a mistake," he started.

"Is something wrong, _darling_?" she interrupted.

He was silent for a moment as he back peddled. "Yes, it's Drs. Lightman actually. Make sure your bosses make a note of it," he said with feigned arrogance.

"Of course sir, would you please sign?" He was offered a clipboard.

Cal slammed the door and looked out the peephole to be sure that the waiter had gone.

"Something you want to fill me in on, _darling?" he asked._

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_**I enjoy constructive criticism!** _


	2. Chapter 2

**Something light with a little taste of smut. Much more to come on this so not to worry. I tend to publish pretty fast so this isn't one of those you'll be waiting a year for. Next couple of chaps will see much more plot movement.**

**Rating has been upgraded as appropriate for this chap.**

**Don't own it, just ship it.**

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"You know as much as I do Cal," she said with an exasperated sigh. "I woke up, went to the bathroom , saw my ring, saw your ring, and here we are."

"Well, you might have mentioned," he grumbled, throwing himself back down on the bed beside her.

"So what do we do Cal?"

"I'm thinking," he said rubbing his eyes. He turned to her, "so you and I are husband and wife?"

"We don't know that for sure Cal. We know we woke up in the same bed together. We can be fairly certain based on the evidence that we had sex. We're wearing matching wedding bands. We appear to be in the Honeymoon suite, and the casino floor manager just sent us breakfast for Mr. and Mrs. Lightman.

"Afraid I don't see your point," his eyebrows knit together.

"I see no marriage certificate and I see no photographs. At this point I'm willing to believe just about anything. To be honest, whether or not we got married last night is the least of my worries." She leaned her head back against the carved bedpost. The smell of food was beginning to waft over from the cart and she wasn't sure her stomach could sustain the assault at the moment.

"Really, Foster? Because it's certainly at the top of my list." He got up and walked over to the breakfast cart, curiously poking around under the silver domes and opening a few of the carafes. He filled a tall glass with what looked like tomato juice.

She swallowed, willing her stomach to hold on. "I'm more concerned with what else we don't know, like who drugged us? Who put us in this room? What did we turn up in our interviews that made someone uncomfortable enough to need to rattle us this way? What else did we do yesterday that we don't remember, and what the _hell _are you doing?"

Cal had wandered over to the tall wardrobe and was busily opening doors. "Aha," he said, obviously finding what he had been searching for. He looked over his shoulder at her, "minibar," he stated simply.

"You can't be serious," she exclaimed as he approached the bed with two tiny bottles of vodka.

"Hair of the dog, love, only way to go," he poured both bottles into the glass of tomato juice, stirring with his finger before licking it. "Up yours, love," he emptied half the glass.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to take a shower and clear my head. Try to think of our next move while I'm gone."

"I'll save you some then," he called after her.

She retreated to the solace of the enormous bathroom, hands around her middle as she leaned back against the closed door. Her head was spinning and not from the hangover this time.

Pushing herself off the hard wood, she went to the shower, cranked the temperature up to high and looked it over. Despite the seriousness of their current predicament she found herself excited by the multiple nozzles covering three of the shower walls. She'd heard of this before, but never had a chance to indulge. She retrieved her toiletries from the counter and sat them on the long glass block bench along one side of the stall. She stepped into the rapidly gathering steam. There were a series of knobs one wall and she toyed with them until gentle sprays of warm water washed her from every side. She arched her head under the top nozzle, allowing the liquid warmth heat to pour over her. She could feel her mind clearing with every moment she spent in the embrace of the hot steam but her memories were no clearer.

She reached for her shampoo, pouring a small amount into her palm. She massaged the coconut scented lather into her scalp, happy that the aspirin seemed to be doing its job and that her head had finally stopped throbbing. The scent of her shampoo filled the air, helping to clear her head as she slowly rinsed.

As she applied conditioner, her mind began to tread the path she had been avoiding and her movements slowed as reality sank in.

She had slept with Cal.

Oh, of course her mind couldn't remember it but that hardly mattered. Her body remembered.

As she gently washed herself, she found small bruises the size of thumbprints at the front of each of her hips. They didn't hurt, with her fair skin she had always just bruised easily and she closed her eyes and bit her lip at the thought of Cal's hands gripping her hips hard enough to make those impressions.

She moved the washcloth to her breasts, noting that her nipples felt swollen and sore and she felt a rush of heat as she imagined his teeth gently nipping at her engorged flesh as he suckled her. Her heart flipped and her breathing became quick and shallow as she imagined his mouth working against her body.

Tentatively she moved her hands lower, placing one foot on the shower bench as she placed her palm between her thighs, noting again the familiar tenderness she felt there. Her thigh muscles felt slightly stiff as if she had worked out hard at the gym the day before and an image quickly formed in Gillian's mind of her astride Cal's thighs, his hands on her hips guiding her movements, his face a rictus of pleasure below her. She moaned involuntarily and was surprised to hear the sound echo off the shower walls much more loudly than she would have liked.

She leaned her head under the water, letting the gentle stream run over her back as she pressed her thumb next to her clit, enjoying the sensation brought about by the touch of her own hands as she imagined Cal's body entwined with hers. She leaned forward supporting herself against the wall as she stroked herself, inserting two fingers inside as she continued to work her thumb against her clit, quickly finding the rhythm she knew would bring her to the brink of ecstasy.

"Cal..." she heard his name echo loudly in the steamy silence as her breathing hitched and she trembled, the pleasurable release washing through her body.

"Ahem…"

The sound of his voice close by shattered her reverie. Her eyes fluttered open and she could see his blurry silhouette outside the wall of the shower.

"Everything okay in there, Love? "he inquired, amusement evident in his tone.

"I'm fine Cal. What are you doing in here?" she asked, trying to calm her breathing and wishing her voice didn't sound quite so shaky.

"Well I heard you moan and then call my name. Just wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen and passed out or something," he said. "Need me to come in and help you with anything?" he offered.

"I'm fine. You must have misheard. I was just…enjoying the shower," she lied.

"So I gathered." His knowing statement hung in the air.

She took a deep breath and turned off the shower. "Can you toss me a towel please? And my robe?" she asked, hoping to god he would just let it drop.

"Sure you don't need me to wash you back for you?"

"Cal…" her tone was a warning.

"Here ya go," he tossed her robe and towel over the wall of the shower.

She quickly dried herself, wrapping the robe around her as she covered her hair and flipped the towel over her head. When she emerged from the shower he was sitting on the edge of the tub, legs crossed and head cocked to the side as he leered at her.

"You look refreshed," he said, satisfaction oozing from his tone. "Feeling better?" he inquired.

"Much actually," she refused to let him faze her as she turned to the sink and wiped off the mirror pretending to study her reflection. "So did you come up with our next move?" she tried to move things forward.

"Now that you mention it, I did have time to think on things, until I was interrupted by your…enjoyment of your shower." He pushed himself up, positioning himself directly behind her as he locked eyes with her in the mirror.

"And?"

"I say we play house," he suggested simply.

"You what?" She spun around to face him.

"Listen, it's obvious whoever set this up is hoping we're so rattled by what did or didn't happen, that we miss something or better yet, end the investigation in light of our new…circumstances. I say we don't give them the satisfaction."

"Let me get this straight," she took a deep breath, "You're proposing we continue our investigation as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened? As if we're suddenly and blissfully happy to be together?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Well yeah…more or less, yeah." He sounded a little less confident. "While we continue to look into what actually happened of course."

"Cal," she said, her voice taking on a slightly frightened tone, "If someone drugged us, which I firmly believe, then we must have been getting close to them. If we continue, what's to stop them from trying again, or worse yet, trying to stop us in other ways?"

"You mean with something more deadly?" he looked at her seriously. "It's entirely possible, love. I'm not short of contacts in this town though Gillian, I have a few favors I can call in that can ensure us a little added protection."

"I'm not sure I really feel any better about that." She rolled her eyes turning back around to face the mirror as she removed the towel and began brushing out her hair.

"Well then, you think on it, I'll shower this time." He began unfastening the belt of his robe.

"Cal!"

"We're married, love, best get used to it." He flashed her a grin in the mirror as he dropped his robe and slipped behind the glass wall.

Suddenly not all the color in her cheeks was due to the steamy air.

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**Just a taste of what's to come. Hope you enjoyed.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know you are all hungry for more smut but you have to give me time for a little plot development. Its me and you can rest assured there will be plenty of smut to go around. I have chapter 4 half done so it should be on the way soon. Thanks for all the reviews so far.**

**Damnit, almost for got the disclaimer...Don't own it yadda yadda yadda...**

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"Can I borrow this spongy thing?" he asked over the spray of the shower.

"Of course," she replied patiently.

"And the shampoo?" he added.

"Just use whatever you want Cal. Didn't you bring your own?"She set her makeup down on the counter and looked toward the glass enclosure where she could she a fuzzy silhouette of his naked body.

"I did, but your stuffs better."His voice drifted out to her.

As she resumed applying her mascara he began lightly humming beneath the spray of the shower. She was surprised to find that his singing voice was actually quite pleasant with a slightly gritty timbre like an old time crooner's that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and sent tiny quivers up and down her spine. The things she didn't know about Cal Lightman. What was that he was humming? It had a familiar sound to it…the Clash? She suppressed a giggle.

She smiled as she zipped her makeup bag, turning for the door. Just before she slipped out, she snuck a glance over her shoulder where the angle afforded her just a sliver of a view in to the shower. Currently Cal was leaned back with his head beneath the spray, rinsing lather from his hair. Her eyes involuntarily followed the flowing foam down over his shoulders, taking in his smooth, lean, and flatly muscled chest, the slight tapering of his waist. She licked her lips as her eyes moved lower, following the soft and narrow trial of hair from his abdomen to the slightly darker curls just above his cock. Immediately she pulled he eyes back up, ashamed at herself for ogling him, only to find him staring at her, amusement plain on his face. She quickly ducked out, shutting the door behind her as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Swearing softly at herself, Gillian began searching the room for her belongings. She opened the closet to find that her clothes had been hung neatly next to Cal's two identical blazers and pants. She reached for a conservative jacket and pants set and then thought better of it, choosing instead a fitted pink dress that she knew showed off her best assets. If she was going to face this situation head on, she was going to do it looking her best damn it.

She tossed the dress onto the bed and began opening drawers, disconcerted to find that her things had been tidily put away. She selected a matching bra and panties, trying not to think too hard about who had put their hands on them to arrange everything so neatly.

Here eye caught on the breakfast cart and she realized she might finally be able to eat something. She was actually starting to feel hungry. She walked over and lifted one of the silver domes. Steam wafted from a stack of fluffy pancakes and she grabbed the plate, poured herself a glass of orange juice and climbed back into bed, tucking her legs underneath her. She took a tentative bite, waiting to see how her stomach would handle food. When she didn't have the immediate urge to bring it back up again she slathered the stack with syrup and dug in.

She'd nearly cleaned the plate when Cal emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a white towel wrapped snuggly around his waist. His hair stuck out at odd angles as if he had scrubbed it with a towel to dry it and then skipped the brush all together and his skin was slightly flushed from the hot water and steamy air. In short, he looked sexy as hell.

He turned toward her and she realized that she had paused, a forkful of pancakes halfway to her mouth as she stared at him.

"Hungry?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers with intensity.

"Excuse me?" She tried to ignore the thrill of excitement that shot through her and made her heart flip.

"The pancakes, looks like you were hungry." He gestured to her plate.

"Oh," she bit her lip, "yeah I was. I'm sure there's more if you wanted something." She set her fork down, suddenly deciding she had had enough.

"Hard to think about food at a time like this, love." His voice was heavy and level.

She knew the tone he was using. It was that tone he used when he wanted to keep the conversation safe so he could keep his distance but wanted her to know his words had deeper meaning. "You mean when we need to be finding out what happened last night?" She steered the conversation to safe ground as she always did, ignoring his opening.

"Yup, exactly what I meant," he lied.

"I thought so," she lied right back. "I'm going to get dressed."

"Excellent," he threw himself into a chair next to the breakfast cart, openly leering at her as if waiting for something.

She rolled her eyes, "in the bathroom, Cal."

"Pity, that. Oh well, think there's any crispy bacon in here?" He began rummaging through the cart.

She grabbed her clothes and slipped back into the other room, thankful for the privacy. She quickly blew her hair dry, twisting it up into a clip behind her head. She dressed, turning slowly in the mirror as she smoothed the pink dress over her hips. Happy with the result, she went back to the main room to find that Cal had dressed as well and was currently talking on his cell. He pressed the speaker button and held the phone up so she could hear.

"Yeah, this is Dr. Lightman, I'd like to speak with Mr. Bolton if he's in please."

"I'm sorry Dr. Lightman, he's not in his office, but he is in the hotel. Would you like to leave a message for him?" a polite female voice responded.

"Yeah, could you tell him that my wife and I appreciate the upgrade in accommodations and that I'd like to meet with him as soon as possible to review some of the findings from our interviews yesterday?" He shot her a conspiratorial grin.

"Certainly Dr. Lightman, and let me just say congratulations to you and your beautiful wife. We were all so excited when we heard you'd taken advantage of our hotel chapel yesterday afternoon. I can't say I'm surprised though, I've never seen two people so in love with each other as you and Dr. Foster, if you don't mind my saying. Mr. Bolton left instructions for us to set aside the room for you for the remainder of the week if you choose to stay," she explained politely.

"That's very generous. We still have a bit more work to wrap up and I'm sure my wife would love to stay a bit longer. Could you tell Mr. Bolton I'd like the meeting as soon as possible? My wife and I have a few more inquiries to make on the Casino's behalf but he can reach me on my phone." He kept his tone even and light, not giving her any reason to be suspicious.

Every time he used the word "my wife" Gillian's heart gave a little extra beat. She realized she had somehow missed the possessive familiarity of that title since Alec and hearing it from Cal's lips somehow pulled at her in a way that was surprising.

"I'll pass it along right away. Congratulations again," the receptionist added.

Cal pressed end and threw his phone on the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Now what?" Gillian asked.

"Now we wait. I don't like it any more than you do, probably even less, but I need to see Bolton to know whether he's tied up in this or not. In the mean time I want to get Torres reviewing all the footage from yesterday's interviews and I want to use Loker's snooping skills to see if he can hack into the Casino's closed circuit system and scan for anything that might have the two of us in it. It would help if we had some sort of time frame to work with." He rubbed a hand through his hair.

"I can ask to review the last tapes from yesterday and check the time and date stamp. That way we can see the time our last memories come from and also try to figure out what it was we might have seen that would scare someone," she offered.

"Good idea, but you're not going anywhere without me. While you were dressing, I called in those favors I told you about and I have people trailing Bolton and Hankins. What I don't know is if they're trailing either one of the people involved in this. I'll get a call if either one of them makes another move but we might have gotten on the wrong side of someone else entirely. The surest way to me is through you and vice versa. I won't take any chances." His tone was fierce.

After 9 years, she was used to Cal's overprotective nature but she wasn't used to him being this out in the open about it. He actually sounded a little frightened.

"We do know if we want answers about the wedding bit we can go to the Casino's chapel. They must have some record that can confirm the time we were there if that receptionist was correct," she offered.

"Sounds like an excellent place to start," he agreed. "Let me get Loker and Torres on the phone and then we can go face the enemy. So to speak, that is."

"What are you going to tell Loker and Torres?"

"Nothing more than I have to at this point," he said gravely as he picked up the phone and dialed Loker's cell phone first. Eli answered on the first ring.

"It's Lightman. Listen Loker, I don't have time for a lot of questions but I need to know if you can get into the Bellagio's closed circuit archives and search camera footage from last night. I'm looking for Casino floor, tower elevators, lobby, anything. Can you do it?"

"That's a huge order, systems like that have massive security protocols and…" he said.

"Bored," Cal interrupted. "Just answer the question Loker, can you get in?" Cal pushed.

"I can get in. It will take some time though. It would be helpful if I knew what I was looking for and what times to search through."

"You're looking for any footage of Dr. Foster and me. I'll get back to you with a timeframe in a bit. I don't want anyone else's' eyes on this but yours and Torres's and if you find anything at all I'm the first and last to know about it. Are we clear?" he asked.

"I got it. Why am I looking for footage of you two, is Dr. Foster okay?"

"She's fine, she's right here. No questions Loker, just do it, right?" His tone left no room for argument.

"I'll call you as soon as I find anything."

"Is Torres with you?" he asked.

"Yeah, here you go." There was silence for a moment.

Cal proceeded to ask Torres to review all the footage and to call with her conclusions. Cal dodged her questions about what she was looking for and simply told her to look for anything at all out of the ordinary. Finally he hit end on the phone and shoved it in his pocket, offering Gillian his elbow.

"Ready to greet the world Dr. Lightman?" he asked sarcastically.

"Who says I'm changing my name? I have my own professional reputation," she sniffed.

"You wouldn't take my name?" he sounded hurt but she was quite sure he was mocking her.

"I'll think about it. For now let's stick with Foster okay?" she said in her best 'drop it Cal' tone of voice.

"Right, well, ready to greet the world, wife?" he tried again.

There was no getting out of that one for the moment. "No time like the present," she sighed.

She picked up her purse from where she had found it on the bedside table along with two plastic hotel key cards. They headed out and made their way to the elevator. According to the sign on the doors they were on the 15th floor.

Cal suddenly turned toward her and reached out a hand, gently stroking the side of her face with his thumb. Startled, she pulled back putting her hands on his chest as she often did when he got too close for her comfort.

"What the hell are you doing?"She looked at him as if he'd grown a third eye.

"Easy love, he said in a soft voice. Just remember that from this moment forward, there are eyes on us. We're in love, remember? At least while we're in public. We're both going to have to learn to go with that for the moment. Can you do that?" he asked as he reached out to her again.

She let him touch her this time. She looked at him and saw the intensity in his eyes. The tiny muscle in his jaw that quivered when he was trying to control himself twitched as he stepped closer to her. They were inches apart and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears as he brushed loose strands of hair away from her ear and his eyes scanned her face from top to bottom. He brushed his lips against hers gently and she parted her mouth for him, whimpering softly in the back of her throat as his tongue gently traced her bottom lip. She wound her arms around his neck pulling him closer. One of his hands gently caressed her back as he supported her head with a palm at the back of her neck, his thumb lightly stroking the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

And suddenly it was over. He gently pulled back from her and she stood still for a moment before she realized her eyes were still closed. As her eyes fluttered open she was shocked to see Cal looking at her with a soft, open expression. She had expected hauteur or at the very least, lust, but he looked almost as awed as she felt.

"Well, I think that should fool just about anyone? What do you think, love?" he asked softly.

"I'm convinced," she replied, trying to shake off the feeling of his lips against hers.

At just that moment, the elevator arrived.

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**More soon...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yeah, this was quick and I really only did a quick edit so I'm really sorry for any mistakes. If you find something glaring bring it to my attention and I will fix and replace. I have to be honest, I'm dying to get to the next chapter.**

**Don't own it**

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**The Lightman Group offices**

Loker scanned the screens of video footage as they rolled by. He was rather proud of the fact that it had taken him only two hours to break the firewall on the casino's system and find what he was looking for. For the last two hours, however, he had been scanning multiple video feeds, searching for any sign of Lightman and Foster. His head was pounding and if he didn't get up and pee soon he was going to have a lot of explaining to do. He feared leaving his post until he had something to report to Lightman.

Out of the corner of his eye, the image of a couple entering the tower elevator caught his attention and he brought the footage up on the big screen. He swallowed hard, mouth going slack as the man pushed the woman up against the wall of the elevator, his hands in her hair as he kissed her. The woman ran her hands over his back before they disappeared into the waistband of his pants as she tilted her head up toward the camera giving him a perfect view of the intense arousal etched deeply across her features. The man's head dipped to her breast as he tugged down the strap of her clinging black dress, exposing pale flesh and the lacy outline of her bra. Loker felt his cock twitch as the man in the frame slid his hand up the woman's thigh, pushing her dress higher as his hand slipped between her legs. The woman's mouth opened in a silent "o" just as the man turned his head to the side so his profile showed clearly in the eye of the camera. Loker pressed pause.

He realized somewhat sheepishly that his cock had done more than stir at the image of the couple on the screen and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He heard the door open behind him and spun around to see Torres entering.

"What are you…" she managed before her eyes were drawn to the screen."Holy shit, is that Foster? Well it certainly looks like she's having a good time," she chuckled. Her face fell suddenly. "Oh my God, that's…"

"Lightman," he finished for her.

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Cal and Gillian had hit dead ends at nearly every turn.

Their first stop had been the hotel's East Chapel, a small and intimate setting, lavishly decorated in muted browns and silver. Arrangements of fresh flowers spilled from the top of Grecian style pillars and intricate sconces adorned the walls on all sides. Gillian hadn't been able to stop herself from thinking what a beautiful setting it was for a wedding. They spoke to the chapel's resident wedding coordinator who had immediately burst into tears at the sight of them. She confirmed that Cal and Gillian had indeed visited the chapel around 7pm the previous evening and had been very legally wed by the house chaplain. The short, plump coordinator sputtered tearfully as she recalled how Cal and Gillian's vows to each other had been some of the most "emotional and heartfelt" she had heard in her entire career.

"We video tape each ceremony so you should be able to have a copy in the next few days or so. It takes a bit to get the editing done," she had told them when her tears finally subsided.

Cal and Gillian had thanked her and left the chapel in stunned silence, grateful to enter the jarring cacophony of the hotel's main lobby a few moments later.

Their next stop was the Bellagio's management offices, where they were told that Mr. Bolton had received their message but was still occupied with very important hotel business. They were assured that he would get back with them at his earliest convenience. They were further disappointed to learn that all video footage of their previous days interviews had been collected by Mr. Bolton for his personal review and was, at this time, unavailable to them.

Contrary to character, Cal had expressed his understanding for the inconvenience, hoping not to arouse suspicion. He hinted that he and Gillian would be more than happy to spend time exploring the city while they waited.

Gillian had dragged an excited Cal away from the entrance to the main casino, ignoring his insistent pleas that he needed to do further research for the case, and they were currently on their way back to their rooms, each lost in quiet thought.

Gillian was happy when Cal's cell phone rang and broke the deafening silence.

"Lightman," Cal's voice was harsh as he answered and pressed speaker.

"It's Loker, I think I've got something you'll want to see. I found some footage of you and Dr. Foster from last night at approximately 8pm. I'm not done searching yet but I thought you'd want to see this. I forwarded the footage to your laptop. Can you access it?" There was something in Loker's tone that Gill had a hard time identifying. He sounded a bit flustered.

"In a few minutes. I'll let you know if there's a problem. What does Torres have from those interviews?"

"She's put together some relevant footage for you to look over. What have you gotten involved in out there?" Loker pried.

"Nothin' you need to be concerned about at the moment. Call me if you find anything else." He shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Well at least that's something. If we can't get access to the footage here, at least we have what we sent back to the office."

Cal and Gillian walked quickly back to the room. Gillian was conscious of his hand at the small of her back as they made their way down the hallway. Since the kiss they had shared earlier she seemed to be overly aware of his every touch.

Entering the room, they found that the maid service had cleaned the room and removed the breakfast cart from earlier. Gillian was happy that the tussled bed clothes were no longer in evidence to remind her of the unknown events the night before.

Cal removed his lap top from the closet where he had found it earlier and they took seats at the long table by the room length window. When he had successfully logged in they waited in silence for the computer to upload the footage Loker had sent.

Gillian couldn't decide whether she was more upset about the idea of losing over twelve hours of her life or being confronted with her lost memories. She didn't have long to be indecisive.

An image burst on the screen that sent her heart into her throat. Her breath caught at the passionate scene playing out before her and when her own face turned toward her with a look of simmering ecstasy, it was more than she could take. She felt the tears coming and she pushed her chair back from the table, fleeing to the window as she tried to shake the images that had been branded into her brain.

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Cal closed his laptop. Although part of him didn't want to delay reviewing the rest of the footage sent by Torres, Gillian's obvious distress troubled him more. While he had been prepared for something like what Loker had actually found, the stark reality of it was something he hadn't expected. The emotions that had played out across his and Gillian's faces in the elevator were so real, so intense that there was no way they could have been induced solely by any kind of drug. He knew Gillian was aware of that fact as well.

He walked to the window where she stood with a hand pressed up against the glass, her other arm wrapped around her middle protectively, as if she was shielding herself from something. He laid a tentative hand on her shoulder and she raised her head, meeting his eyes in the reflection from the glass. Even in the dull reflection he could see that her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks tear stained. He kept his hand on her shoulder as he moved his thumb up and down her arm gently.

"Tell me," he half-whispered, his voice thick.

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks and she lowered her head again. "I feel…violated. I feel like…like time was stolen from me. As if someone else stole my body and walked around in it for a night," her voice hitched. "How is it possible that I have no recollection of…of _that_?" She gestured behind her to the table, or to the bed, he couldn't be sure which. "I should remember feeling those things…I should remember_ you."_ She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Come here, love." He used his hand on her shoulder to pull her into an embrace. She laid her head against his shoulder as he buried his face in her neck, rocking her gently in his arms. He smoothed her hair as his other hand caressed her back. "I'm so sorry Gillian." His heart twisted inside his chest at the thought that he could be even a small part of her pain.

She lifted her head from his shoulder, taking his face between her palms as she forced his eyes to meet hers. "This is not your fault Cal, do you hear me? This happened to you just as much as it did to me. Don't you dare blame yourself." Her voice was fierce.

He pulled her to him again, and they stood like that as the minutes ticked by. Gradually her breathing evened out, her harder sobs becoming muted hiccups against his collar. He felt her relax against him and was glad that the worst of the storm had finally passed. Just as he was about to release her and try to infuse a little humor into the situation she tensed slightly and her voice whispered softly, tentatively in his ear.

"Cal," she breathed, "I want to remember."

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**Ok, I confess, I actually cried at my own Fic. **

**Still with me or did I lose everyone?**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm about to seriously earn that M rating ya'll. Just a warning. If you're not old enough to read this kind of stuff, best stop now!**

**I don't own Lie To Me but if I did, I wouldn't have to write this cause it would be on Showtime where they could do this for real!**

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"_Cal," she breathed, "I want to remember_."

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Cal's heart dropped into his stomach at her tentative whisper and the feel of her breath against his ear. He pulled his head from her shoulder and stroked a hand down the side of her face, his brows knit together; eyes searching for any indication that she was joking or unsure about her last statement. "I'm sorry, love. Could you repeat that? All I hear at the moment is this sort of ringing sound in my ears."

"You heard me," she smiled at him before her expression became serious again. "Cal, I don't know what's happened but I do know that there isn't a drug in the world that can induce the type of emotion that those two people..." she took a deep breath, "that _we_ were clearly feeling last night, without something to start with. I still firmly believe that there was a drug of some kind involved but what we _did_? I believe that came from someplace inside of us that maybe neither one of us is ready to deal with on a conscious level yet. I'm saying I won't let someone take that from me; from us."

His focus was drawn to her lips as she finished speaking and he closed the short gap between them, eyes remaining open until the moment before he captured her lips between his. There was no hesitation this time as she parted her mouth for him, allowing his tongue access to fleetingly caress hers. His hands tangled in her hair as he tilted his head to the side, drawing her in closer and finding the best angle from which he could taste as much of her as possible. Her fingers grasping and kneading the back of his neck sent blood rushing to his groin and the tip of her velvety tongue darting out to meet his urged a groan from deep in his throat.

He pulled back from her for a moment, hands moving to her face as his thumb traced her jaw and chin. He was astounded to see her widened pupils pushing back the blue of her irises as she looked at him with heavy lidded eyes, her breath already coming in forced pants.

"More," she breathed at him, eyes fluttering closed as her hands exerted pressure on the back of his neck, pulling him in

His mouth descended hungrily on hers as he walked her backwards, pressing her up against the thick glass of the floor to ceiling window. He pushed his hips forward letting her feel the effect she was having on him. She moaned against his mouth, her hands gliding over the curve of his spine until she reached the hem of his shirt, pushing it up until he felt her palms stroking the small of his back. Eager to feel her hands on him he quickly released her, pulling his shirt swiftly over his head before he claimed her mouth again. He was desperately torn between the desire to keep kissing her for the rest of the foreseeable future and the need to get her out of her dress.

Priorities being priorities, he pulled back from her, jaw tense and breathing hard as he looked for the smallest sign of hesitation on her part. When all that met him was the sharp edge of intense arousal, he spun her around, his hands brushing the hair away from the base of her neck as he grasped the tiny zipper of her dress between fingers that trembled more than he was comfortable with. As smooth pale flesh was revealed to him through the slowly widening gap, he lowered his head, planting a string of hot, open mouthed kisses along her spine. Her body trembled and she gasped causing his cock to twitch in the increasingly crowded confines of his briefs.

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Gillian stared down at the crowds of people captivated by the display of dancing fountains that played out below her. If her entire body wasn't so completely caught up in the sensation of Cal's mouth working against her skin and the way his fingers deftly unclasped her bra before brushing airily down her spine, she might have found it distracting. In her current state, the idea that anyone in the crowd with a good pair of binoculars could catch a much better show on the 15th floor only enflamed the desire swirling through every limb.

As Cal swept her dress and bra from her shoulders and pushed the tailored garment over her hips, he pressed into her from behind, grinding the hard evidence of his own arousal into her ass. He forced her upper body against the glass, and her bare nipples were warmed by the heat from outside bleeding through the thick panes. His hands gripped both her hips as he leaned into her neck, nipping and suckling at the sensitive flesh along her hairline. His ragged breath near her ear sent electricity shooting to her already throbbing sex and she ached for him to touch her there.

She turned in his arms, hands rushing to his waist where she fumbled with the buttons of his fly, her gaze focused downward. At the last button she brought her eyes to his and her hands froze for an instant. His eyes were glazed with primal desire, his jaw tight as he drew deep breaths through slightly parted lips. Her fingers fumbled the last clasp and she dipped a hand inside, circling his now unconfined length through the thin fabric of his briefs. His eyes fluttered closed and he tensed as he drew a sharp hissing breath.

His fingers swiftly circled her wrist, removing her hand from inside his pants before he gingerly pushed his jeans and briefs over his hips and kicked them aside. Her heart skipped as she took in his hard length, fully engorged against his lower abdomed. He stepped closer to her but left space between their bodies. His hand reached out and brushed the side of her face, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

"Tell me you want this Gillian," he growled, his voice strained.

"I _need _this, Cal," She said firmly and without hesitation.

His hands were on her the instant the words left her mouth. He pressed her up against the warm glass, one hand glancing across her ribs as he cupped and weighed her breast in his palm, his thumb stroking her already taut nipple. With his other hand he held onto her hip, tipping her pelvis forward so she felt the solid length of his erection pressed against her through her black lace panties. She felt a drop of moisture against her belly and realized how tightly he must be holding on if he was this ready for her.

She trailed a hand up his arm and across his shoulder stroking the sexy spot where the muscles from his neck merged with those of his back. She dipped her head to the curve of his neck, opening her mouth against his warm skin as she first lapped with her tongue then gently suckled at the moist flesh, leaving a trail of damp red marks. As she moved upward his fingers tightened convulsively on her hip and she smiled against him at the memory of the bruises she had found that morning. She pulled the sensitive lobe of his ear between her teeth and his hips bucked against hers as his breath caught in a strangled moan.

His fingers grasped the wispy material of her panties, pulling them down until they fell at her ankles. His other his hand snaked downward from her breast, hovering tentatively just above her belly.

"I want to touch you," he said against her neck in that throaty voice she was learning to crave.

She released his earlobe and pulled back from him slightly. She reached for his hand and drew it to her lips as he looked at her quizzically. Turning his hand upward she planted an open mouthed kiss against his palm, meeting his eyes from beneath her lashes as she did so. She then took his first two fingers and ran them gently over her swollen lips before inserting them into her mouth. She withdrew the fingers slowly using her tongue to apply moisture. Without breaking eye contact, she held his hand as she guided him lower and lower until his fingers brushed the faint line of curls above her sex. As she raised her knee, he quickly grasped it with his other hand creating the opening she needed. She pushed his fingers right to the top of her folds, guiding him to the tiny throbbing bundle of nerves there. She moaned softly as her eyes fluttered closed and she let go of his hand, circling her arms around his neck to guide him back to her mouth.

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"Do you have any idea how unbelievably sexy you are?" Cal muttered against her lips. He pressed his fingers against her clit, eliciting another tiny moan before he slid deeper between her hot slippery folds, dipping just the tip of his index finger inside her entrance as he tested her. She pressed her hips against his palm eagerly trying to force him deeper.

He hitched her leg up higher on his hip, stepping between her thighs, and leaned into her body, bending his legs just slightly. His fingers moved back to stroke her clit as he placed his cock against her folds, gently nudging them apart. With two short strokes he opened her, coaxing her tight walls apart until he settled inside her with a deep groan of pleasure at the firm heat that enveloped him so completely. He ground his pelvic bone against her clit and her nails dug into the sensitive flesh at the back of his neck.

He leaned his dampened brow against hers, taking a moment to gain a modicum of control over his body. "You okay, love?" he asked in a tight voice.

"Mmm..I'm wonderful Cal," she smiled as she captured his lower lip, teasing gently with her teeth. "You feel so good," she breathed and he felt fluttering muscles flex around him, stealing his breath.

He tried to steady himself and think about anything other than the incredibly sweet ecstasy of being inside of her, but he had already strayed so far over the edge, there was no hope of drawing their pleasure out much longer; at least this time.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath as he withdrew. Grabbing the back of her neck for support, he thrust into her hard, lifting her completely off her feet. Keeping her pressed tightly between his body and the window, he dropped his hand and lifted her other leg around his waist. She locked her ankles behind him and he stepped back, praying to god that he had the strength and coordination to support her. He'd never make it all the way to the bed like this but he had a much closer destination in mind. Spinning them around, he walked the few steps to the long table, depositing her just on the edge as he repositioned himself.

With an arm behind her back, he pushed her backward until she lay flat on the table, his body covering hers as he moved in and out of her in short shallow strokes, making as much contact with her clit as he could. He put his mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue in time with the rhythm of their hips. Her fingers clenched at his shoulders with each stroke and her breathing became harsh and uneven, she was close but he could tell she still needed more.

Feeling his own desperate need for release rapidly taking over his conscious thought, he stood up, draping her knees over his forearms as he bent her legs, pushing them back toward her shoulders. Now able to penetrate her fully, he deepened his strokes, slamming his hips into her clit so that she cried out with each wet slap of flesh meeting flesh. He focused on her cries and the signs that her body gave him as she reached and reached for the edge of pleasure. He held on desperately until he felt her legs begin to tremble and her hands ball into tiny fists against his shoulders, clenching and unclenching convulsively.

He drove into her hard and then ground his hips against her.

"Cal," she called out breathily as he finally felt her inner muscles tremble and clench around him, tightening her body's already firm grasp on his cock. She let out a long low moan and he let go of his hard won control, thrusting into her quick and hard with a rhythm born out of desperation until he felt the flood of his orgasm wash through him, his balls drawing up into his body as he came hard and hot inside her.

_Inside Gillian; inside his wife._

He couldn't control the thoughts that burst through his brain as he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard. Her cries from a moment before had calmed to soft whimpers that accompanied the continued gentlefluttering of her walls around him.

His legs were definitely threatening to buckle on him and he pulled her up slowly as she clutched at him, unwilling to give up contact with his body. Gently he slid her off the edge of the table and down to the floor where they clung to each other in a patch of sunlight on the plush carpet. Gillian's hand stroked soft circles on his chest as she smiled against his shoulder.

"Cal?" she said in a trembling voice.

"Yes, love?" he turned to kiss her damp forehead.

"That was worth remembering."

"I never had any doubts it would be, darling," he sighed against her hair.

There was a sudden pounding at the door which Cal chose to ignore in favor of his sudden focus on the smell of her shampoo. A moment later the pounding was repeated and a gruff voice called, "I have a package for Jimmy the Mouth."

"Are you going to get that Cal?" Gillian prompted.

"I hadn't decided yet," he breathed, running a hand through her hair. He shook himself, his eyes glancing toward the door before returning to her. "Promise me you won't move, or think, or anything else while I deal with this?"

"I'm not going anywhere," she said seriously.

Reluctantly, Cal left her and hurried to the door picking up his discarded jeans and tugging them on awkwardly on the way. When he glanced through the peephole, there was no one in sight. He opened the door and stuck his head out into the hall, "Oi!" he called to a man with a large envelope in his hand retreating down the hall. "You're looking for Jimmy?" he asked.

The man quickly turned back toward Cal. When he reached the door he placed the heavy package in Cal's waiting hand. Cal turned back into the room, opening the closet where he retrieved a thick white envelope before returning to the stranger in the hall.

"You're Jimmy the Mouth?" the man asked flatly.

"Yeah, sometimes," Cal replied as he handed the envelope over. "Is there a problem?"

The man thumbed casually through the thick stack of bills inside the envelope Cal had given him. "Nah, just the way Mr. Peterson talks about you, I always pictured you a little taller."

"We done here?" Cal said harshly.

In answer the man shoved the envelope into a pocket on the inside of his jacket and turned back down the hall toward the elevators. Cal shut the door, fastening the chain and the deadbolt before dumping the contents of the envelope onto the bed. A 9mm handgun and an extra clip landed heavily on the flowered bedspread. Cal picked up the gun, checked the clip inside before replacing it and then tucked both the gun and extra clip into the stand next to the bed. He truly hoped it didn't come to that but if someone was determined enough to try and stop them from getting information he was damn well going to be ready.

He walked back across the room to where Gillian sat on the carpet, looking absolutely delicious in his polo shirt which she had pulled on while he did business. She looked worried and frightened and a sudden flash of anger washed through him at the person responsible for ruining, what had been, a perfect moment.

"What was that Cal?" she asked.

He sat down next to her, gathering her into his arms. "Just some of the protection I mentioned earlier. Nothing for you to worry about, I've just always found it's better to be prepared."

She turned to look at him and he was pleased to see that some of the fear he had seen earlier was now tempered with anger. "I want to get these people Cal, I don't just want to sit around and wait for them to decide we're too much of a threat," she said vehemently.

"That's my girl." He could never hide his pride when it came to her perseverance.

"What do we do now?" she asked in a tone that indicated she was ready to go guns blazing down to the casino floor to track down the criminals.

"Well, right now I'd like to take my wife out to dinner wherever it was we ate yesterday or last night and start asking some questions. Besides, I'm famished. You're a bloody firework in the bedroom Gill," he teased.

"You haven't seen anything yet," she said with an arch of her brow as she leaned in to kiss him.

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**Well, now that thats out of the way...More plot. Happy smutastic Saturday!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I NEVER intended to make you wait so long for more of this. I got distracted by other things but I knew I would come back to this eventually. So here it is, the long awaited next chapter. I have suddenly found new inspiration for this story and, I think, sorted out in my head how I want it to unfold. Thanks to all those who have begged and pleaded for more of this, I hope you're not dissapointed...**

**As always, LTM belongs to people other than me. I still hate FOX for murdering my OTP, so yeah...bite me.**

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"Cal, you do know it's only four o'clock. Don't you think it will look a little odd if we go to dinner this early? We're supposed to be newly weds." Gillian found the voice of reason as Cal busily nuzzled her neck.

"Well, I do know a way we can kill some time," he tried, seizing her earlobe with his teeth.

She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you're not taking this more seriously. I think we need to review the tapes of the interviews before we consider doing anything else."

"I'm taking it incredibly seriously, it's just a question of priorities, love," he growled, reluctantly releasing her ear and attending to the computer screen.

Gillian turned up the sound as high as it would go so she could try to get a read on the voice of their current interviewee, a mid level manager who was in charge of receiving chips from the floor when cashiers came off of a shift. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It was odd to watch herself doing things only a day before that she had almost no memory of, as if they had happened to someone else.

Cal rested his hand solidly on her shoulder, easily perceiving her discomfort. "It bothers me too, Gillian," he said softly.

She placed her hand over his briefly, just as something caught her attention on the screen. "Right there," she pointed. "From this angle you can see his hands under the table. Watch right here." She rewound the video.

"_Mr. Kelly, are all of your transactions with cashiers monitored by camera."_

"_Yes, every one." _The man at the table answered.

Gillian paused the video feed. "Look at his hands. They're relaxed in his lap in the beginning and then suddenly clenched right here when he talks about the video monitoring."

"Yet I don't see anything in his face to indicate that he's lying. He's leaving something out though, not telling the whole story. Keep going." He leaned in closer.

"_What happens to the chips once you accept them from the cashiers?"_

"_Another manager and I count the chips and make sure that the balance is accurate with the cashiers account."_ His voice remained level.

"_Anyone ever off by a bit?" _Cal then asked him, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

Gillian paused the tape again. "You saw something Cal, right there. The tape resolution isn't good enough for me to see a micro expression but I know your body language."

"You certainly do," he muttered and was rewarded as a hint of color flushed her cheeks.

She started the tape again.

"_There are many times that balances can be off by small amounts. We aren't required to report any amount under ten dollars unless the same cashier has more than three underages in one week."_

Gillian could clearly see the man wringing his hands below the table, something that had been unavailable to them during the interview. "We were close to something there, Cal. You saw it in the interview, maybe we both did. He was definitely holding something back about the transactions between the cashiers and the managers."

"Absolutely. The question is, what is he not telling us? I may have gotten the sense of discomfort but I don't see that he told us anything completely untruthful." Cal squinted at the screen and licked his lip, chewing the corner of his cheek the way he did when he was either uncomfortable or in deep thought.

"Do you think he was coached? Did someone tell him exactly how much detail to go into? What to leave out?" She postulated.

"Possible. Go back just a bit."

They watched the tape again looking for something they might have missed. Suddenly Cal reached over her shoulder and paused the footage. "Right there, did you see that?" He backed up again and froze the feed.

Gillian could clearly see that Kelly's eyes had flashed to the precise location of the hidden camera for just a split second. "He knew he was being watched. He knew he had to say exactly what he'd been instructed to say and no more because the person coaching him would have access to this tape. I don't think he was so concerned about us seeing something as he was about what would happen if he didn't follow orders."

"You think someone threatened him?" Cal asked, already knowing the answer.

"I think this whole thing goes a lot deeper than we originally suspected."

Cal loved watching her mind work. "Hankins was the one who brought us in on this in the first place. Why would he set himself up to be caught?"

"What if he's just setting the board up so that someone else can take the fall? We've talked to the owner. Maybe Hankins was so close to getting caught he needed a way to point the finger in the other direction?"

Cal watched as her eyes lit up and her whole face glowed. _Christ she's beautiful, now more than ever. _He thought, wishing he could stop the turning of the world for just a few moments and simply _stare _at her.

"Let's see what else is on here." Gillian's voice interrupted his thoughts. She turned back to the screen and Cal could see how giddy she was to move on. They watched the rest of the footage in relative silence, squinting hard at the screen. They stopped and backed up but not one other employee seemed to be showing signs of deception coverage or what either considered to be above average discomfort with the questioning process. Suddenly the footage ended.

"Where's the rest? I know we interviewed Bolton and Hankins as well as two other mangers. I DO remember that much. What happened to the tape from that?" Cal stood up and moved to the dresser, grabbing his phone.

"Maybe Loker was still working on it back at the office?" She suggested.

"Maybe Loker never got it. Maybe there _is _no footage of those interviews. Damn."He kicked the bottom of the dresser.

"What?" she moved toward him, concerned. He had a hunted look in his eyes that frightened her.

"I don't like you being tangled up in this, love. Maybe it would be better if you went back to DC." He looked at her pleadingly, as if hoping she would agree without a fight.

"What if we both went back? I know you're not one to walk away from a fight Cal but you can't fight when you don't know who you're fighting against and you only have so many eyes in the back of your head. You can't do this all alone. I won't let you stay here by yourself. Either we both stay or we both go. At this point, I really don't know what the best option is."

"Gill, men like this? They have long arms. If they've got big enough stones to take on a casino like this one, well…if they think we've discovered something or that we _could? _Hiding back in DC really isn't an option." His voice was soft so as not to alarm her but she felt the edge behind it.

"Then let's go downstairs and play the besotted newlyweds. Let them think the only thing we can really focus on at the moment is each other and keep working on some way to get out of this. Honestly I don't see another way, short of fingering one of the middle managers, which is obviously what someone is hoping we will do." She reached out a hand and laid it gently on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles release slightly.

"I won't set up an innocent man," he said.

"I know you won't. Cal, what about just calling in the gaming commission and letting them sort it out?"

"Already thought of that one as well, darling. Until I know who is in who's pocket in this town, I'm not calling anyone. I've got someone working on that end of it for me already," he said darkly.

"What would you do if I wasn't involved?"She asked softly.

He looked at her, eyes scanning her face slowly. "This is the first time I haven't been able to answer that question, Gillian, not even in my own head." He reached up and traced his fingers along her jaw. "I can't tell you how much that frightens me."

She opened her arms and held him, clinging tightly. Finally she felt him relax against her and pulled away. "If you're taking me to dinner, I need to clean up a bit first."

"I don't know, I think you're even sexier like this, if that's at all possible." He pulled her closer and let her feel that she had aroused him, even with an innocent touch.

"Cal," she said, unsure how to begin. She placed her hands against his chest. "Cal, I didn't ask you to have sex with me to open a door to something else."

"You don't think I know that, Gillian?"

"What I'm saying is, married or not married, I can't sort out how I feel about this with everything else going on. Once this is over…I don't want to make any promises alright?" She met his eyes but looked away quickly.

"Of course not, just promise me one thing," he stepped back from her slightly, trying to cover the fleeting look of disappointment he knew must have shown.

"Cal…"

"Promise me you'll let me wash your back in the shower this time." He flashed her a look that sent warmth shooting through her whole body.

She placed a hand on her hip, glad the awkward moment had apparently passed. "Really? Just my back?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for starters," he drawled.

Without a word she untied the belt holding her robe closed and let her only garment slip from her shoulders. Turning, she began walking toward the bathroom, leaving a stunned Cal Lightman in her wake.

"Coming?" She tossed over her shoulder. "You'll have to hurry," she paused at the entrance to the bathroom, turning so her silhouette was framed by the doorway, "I'm starving."

"Bloody right," he murmured, shedding his clothes awkwardly as he followed her.

* * *

_I don't know how long another chapter will take me but I CAN say it won't be 6 months this time!_

_PLease let me know how you like the continuation._


	7. Chapter 7

**Good morning everyone! I've waited until just after midnight here to publish this little chapter so that I can revive the fantastic tradition of Smuttastic Saturday! There are 2 chapters left of this fic and this is the last thoroughly ATTHS chapter so I thought it appropriate. I don't know how much more I have in me for these two. I am determined to finish this story but it becomes harder and harder as time passes. I have never shipped anyone this strongly before and I'm not sure I ever want to again. At times my obsession was too consuming and parting has been too painful. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this little romp for our fave OTP!**

**xoxox Kat.**

Her mind should have been screaming at her in protest at the wrongness of it. The incredible irony of the fact that she was in the Honeymoon suite in the Bellagio with Cal, with her business partner, with her best friend was in no way lost on her. Instead of running for the next plane home, however, she found herself shamelessly rolling her backside against him beneath the spray of a dozen shower heads in their cavernous bathroom.

She made herself be aware of him, repeated over and over in her mind that this was Cal kissing her, Cal touching her, Cal making her feel as if she was experiencing passion for the first time. The more she repeated his name in her head, the harder her blood pounded in her veins, as if her entire body pulsed with him. In that single moment she knew why it was that she had resisted this for so many years. She had turned her back on countless fiery looks, denied the heat of his touch more times than she could count because _of course _it would have to be this. There would never, could never, be a middle ground. Not for them. For Cal Lightman and Gillian Foster either passion was a flame that burned just beyond their grasp or it was a fire that consumed them utterly and completely.

Then again, perhaps she _would_ be running if it wasn't for the fact that it all felt so _god damned good_.

She shivered as Cal's scruff of a beard raked across the skin of her back. The cool tile of the shower against her nipples provided a sharp contrast to the heat of Cal's mouth as he trailed his lips and tongue over a path between her shoulder blades. Warm water splashed her from every side, washed down her back and pooled in the space where his hips pressed hard against hers.

"I thought you were washing my back?"

"Mmmm," his voice was muffled by her skin, "I got distracted."

It wasn't entirely a lie. The wet smooth skin of her back running beneath his lips and fingertips was utterly mesmerizing. The fact that it went on to blend into the delicious flesh of her hips and buttocks could have kept him occupied for hours, perhaps even days. He was only slightly surprised that his 47 year old body was already working up a stiff erection as his hands continued to explore in every direction, noting the places that elicited tiny sounds of pleasure from Gillian.

He wanted to takes his time, to simply touch her and feel her respond, to memorize every inch, every sound. It was futile of course. His attraction to her was primal and as she began to respond to him by pressing back against the hard length of his cock as it rested next to her hip, he had to fight like hell against the urge to press inside her immediately.

He wrapped his arms around her belly and pulled her tight against him beneath the steaming water, lapping at her earlobe and stroking his lips against the curve of her neck. "Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to touch you? How many times I just wanted to…" His voice broke off as he buried his face in her shoulder and he moved one of his hands lower, cupping it between her thighs almost possessively as she whimpered.

"Tell me," she whispered over the rush of the water.

He was silent, struggling for the right words. "The pink dress," he finally murmured.

"What about it?"

"I imagined you were wearing it for me, wearing it and begging me to look at those gorgeous legs." His hand pressed up into her.

The indescribably velvet caress of his words in her ear rolled across her skin and she stifled a gasp at the sensation. "Who says I wasn't?" She asked breathily.

He sank his teeth lightly into her shoulder, beginning to work his fingers with more purpose.

"Tell me," she urged.

"Every time I touched you," his other hand reached up to stroke her breast, "every time I held you," he slipped his fingers gently up inside of her, "every time, every day, every moment, it was this. Every damn time Gillian."

She trembled at the intensity of his words as memory after memory of his hands on her flooded through, intensifying the warmth of his body against hers. She gasped as the circle of his arms closed even more tightly around her and rocked her hips against his insistent fingers. She reached behind her and grasped his neck, straining awkwardly until she found his mouth, kissing him with the heat of the fire that was building inside of her. His lips, warm and wet from the heat of the shower, slipped easily against hers, opened as her tongue sought his.

Cal couldn't get enough. She was alive in his arms. He surrounded her and he was inside of her and still he needed more. He wanted to fill her, to feel her heartbeat and her heat wrap around him entirely.

"Bedroom," he whispered.

"God yes," she agreed. Turning in the circle of his arms and kissing him hungrily, she reached a hand down to stroke his erection. His body spasmed in reaction to her insistent touch and he drew breath against her lips.

"Now," he growled.

Fumbling the taps of the shower closed, they hastily made their way from the bathroom. There were a few points along the short journey where it seemed their passion might not wait for the soft surface of their king sized bed. After what seemed like an eternity, and a brief struggle against the side of poorly placed end table, they finally fell atop the plush comforter, a tangle of limbs and need, rolling until Gillian found herself pinned pleasantly beneath Cal who was attacking her body with a stream of endless kisses.

It would have been easier for him if she didn't taste so unspeakably lovely, if her skin wasn't so terribly soft. He moved his way down her body, tasting, licking, seeking out every curve with his lips and tongue. He reached the apex of her thighs and her hands tangled in his hair. He smiled at how breathless she sounded, how pleased. He raised his head for a moment and gazed up her body.

Her eyes opened at the cessation of his mouth on her and when she found him staring she simply touched his face and smiled before doing the last thing he had expected to find Gillian Foster ever doing for him. She lifted both of her knees and spread her creamy thighs, inviting him to look at her in the most unbelievably intimate way.

"Christ, you really are trying to kill me aren't you?" he growled as he lowered his head eagerly. The sweet and clean musky scent of her was enough to make his cock swell all over again but the taste of her was an immediate and all consuming addiction. He opened his mouth wide and pressed the flat of his tongue against her clit, immensely satisfied when she cried out and twisted against the bed.

Her body was on fire. Cal's tongue was doing indescribable things to her. She had no idea how it was possible to feel so many sensations at once. He seemed to know instinctively just how to touch her. He suckled her clit relentlessly while his tongue twisted inside of her, lapping in a delicious way that made her cry out uncontrollably, her gasps and moans rolling off the walls of the room. She pushed her hips against him without thought and he gave her exactly what she wanted.

Cal continued to work his mouth against her, drinking in every luscious taste. He could feel her body gathering itself for release, the rhythmic circles of her hips growing more insistent, her cries more needy. He wanted to bring her over the edge, to feel her come against his mouth, but greater than that was the overpowering desire to bury himself deep inside her.

He waited for just the right moment before quickly moving up her body, replacing the stroke of his tongue with the head of his cock as he pushed into her moist heat.

She barely had time to react as his lips descended on her, painting her mouth with her own taste. Before she could rouse her mind from the clouded haze of arousal, he moved inside of her and she felt herself filled with the unbelievably hard length of his cock. She lifted her legs higher, placing them against the small of his back as she shifted until the thrust of his hips hit her at just the right angle.

"I'm sorry," he panted against the base of her throat.

"I forgive you." Her words were closer to a moan.

She clawed at his shoulders and he quickened his strokes. He knew she was close and so was he but he wasn't ready for it to be over. Unfortunately his body wasn't going to give him much of a choice in the matter. The pressure in his cock had been building for far too long now and it was beginning to demand release in a nearly painful way.

He placed his lips against the damp hair that curled around her ear. "I need you to come for me darling, can you come for me?" His voice was strained, barely more than a ragged gasp.

"Soon," she moaned. "Please don't stop." Her voice was desperate, aching. She needed relief as badly as he did but neither wanted the ecstasy to end.

He drew on reserves he didn't know he had. Every muscle trembled with effort as she circled her hips against him. Finally, her thighs trembled around him and he felt the first fluttering of her walls as she let out a high pitched and breathless cry. He couldn't wait a second longer. The very beginnings of her release catapulted him into his own violent and prolonged orgasm and her sweet cries were lost as his blood pounded in his ears, surge after surge of nearly unbearable pleasure ripping him apart.

He was vaguely aware that her body had gone completely limp beneath him as he rolled to the side, dragging air into his burning lungs as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Fuck," he breathed when he could remember how to form words. "That was…" His vocabulary was distinctly lacking at the moment.

"Yes."

He turned his head toward her and found her looking at him with an odd expression, as if he was a puzzle she was just on the brink of solving. It was incredibly unnerving. "Okay Foster?"

She was silent for a moment. "Lightman," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"No," she said, holding up her hand so that the gold band shone in the light. "I meant me."

His heart turned over in his chest. "I'm sorry?"

"Just trying it on." She smiled, as if smiling at something inside.

"And?" he propped himself up on an elbow and covered her ringed hand with his own.

Her eyes turned thoughtful as she gazed at their entwined hands. "It's easier than I thought." She met his eyes and he saw the truth of it.

"You can wear it as long as you like, you know," he said simply. There was no demand, no pressure in his tone.

She leaned over and kissed him softly, pulling the edge of the comforter over them as she curled up in his arms, her eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion trumped her hunger for the moment.

He pressed his lips against her hair as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness beside his wife.

* * *

**Happy Smuttastic Saturday ya'll. Hey, this chapter only took me 3 months! I'd like to finish it before it's a year old!**


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